


My Greater Good

by trash_to_the_power_of_me



Category: Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them (Movies), Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: 1890s, Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Christmas, Christmas Fluff, Fix-It of Sorts, Holidays, M/M, Romance, don't worry there's no angst, slight mention of sex but it's glossed over, the dumbledore siblings love each other really, uwu enjoy sisters
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-09
Updated: 2018-12-24
Packaged: 2019-09-15 00:01:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 6,664
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16922877
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/trash_to_the_power_of_me/pseuds/trash_to_the_power_of_me
Summary: Less than a year has passed since Albus met Gellert. Less than a year of pure perfection.Christmas is the most wonderful time of the year. That's what they say.And it turns outit's true.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> hey most of this is pre-written but i'm still working on the last part so bare with me lol  
> i think "schatzi" means something like "dear" or "sweetie" in german btw  
> also?? enjoy!

A snowflake danced gently from the demiguise-like clouds hovering above; twirling and leaping, waltzing through the air; it frolicked down to the soft ground, the colour of daisy petals in mid-spring; there it lay to rest, marrying into the waiting snow; in the sky, yet more flakes fell through the same cycle.

There the snowflake stayed, untouched and unmoving. A boot came down next to it, barely sparing it.

The boot was tall, buckled, and black, going as high as the knee; it belonged to a boy of about seventeen, give or take a few months; it didn’t stay next to the snowflake for more than a second, for the boy wasn’t there to dilly-dally; he had somewhere to be.

Footslogging across the little village, the boy huffed heavily, snickering as the air before him became thicker, giving him the look of a heavy smoker (which he wasn’t). It wasn’t that it was a long journey from Hogsmeade to the house- after all, all one had to do was to apparate from here to there and back again; it was only that, after having visited Hogsmeade, the boy had remembered that he was meant to visit the market in the village square- so that he had done; he had taken the food back to his great-aunt, as he was instructed; it was then he thought how nice it would be to turn up at the house with some treats; and so he apparated once more to the market, only to realise he had splinched the tip of his fingernail on his ring finger. The boy knew it would be unwise to try again with his low-level energy; better travel on foot than risk losing a body part that couldn’t be regrown.

So that was how he came to be trudging through the fresh-fallen snow, lugging two quite weighty bags with him; he had, whilst at the market, picked up a variety of ingredients and sweets; alongside the presents he had originally travelled for, all were sure to please his sweetheart. One gift in particular, one which had kept him out all day trying to find the perfect one, was sure to be the cream on top of the cockroach cluster; at least, the boy hoped it would.

Having been quite lost in thought, the boy was vaguely thrown off to find himself standing in front of the door to the house.

It wasn’t exactly his house, per-se; it may as well have been, given the amount of time he spent there, but it wasn’t. The houses in the village looked much the same to most, although there were plenty of distinctions (many which seemed obvious once one thought about it); this particular house, for instance, had honeysuckle vines draped around a single window- the window which jutted out of the roof, crooked and off centre; inside, through the closed curtains, the boy could see the weak glow of a candle. A dull thud sounded, followed by a silvery laugh. The boy smirked to himself. He raised a fist and knocked on the door, one of his bags banging against it too.

It took only a few seconds. There was a cluttering from upstairs, murmuring and sighing, followed by two sets of footsteps. The first came swift and lithe, eager in their way, the second set rather clumsy, trying desperately to keep up.

The front door was wrenched open, and the boy beamed. For there were those twinkling blue eyes he so loved; the long, auburn hair, wavy and thick, pulled back into a lazily done bun, strands falling out as he watched; the freckles, littered lightly across ivory cheeks (although the boy knew there were more across the lower back, thighs, and chest); the wand tucked behind the ear (as it so often was), the bitten-down nails, and the slightly crooked nose; the scratched hand (the result of stress or, sometimes, simply boredom), the creases between thick eyebrows, and the soft, dewy lips that the boy knew so very well.

“Albus,” he croaked. He hadn’t spoken for hours, having been out all day, and had quite almost forgotten what it felt like.  
“Gellert!” said Albus. He wrapped an arm around Gellert, sweeping him in through the door.

The warmth hit Gellert like a dragon falling from the sky. Ariana closed the door behind him and took his bags, setting them aside on the floor; Albus took his cloak, dried it with a flick of his wand, and hung it on one of the hooks.

“You get your shoes off- socks too, actually, they’re probably soaked through,” Albus said, arms around Gellert’s neck, trying not to stand too close before his sister. “Then I’ll get you up to the bedroom. We’ll warm each other up, yeah?”

“Sounds like a plan,” said Gellert, his voice still raspy.

Albus turned to his sister. “Ariana, your lessons are over for today.”

“Oh, thank the goats!”

“Do you mean gods?”

“No,” said Ariana. “I’m not utterly dim. It’s just Aberforth likes goats and I miss him.”

“Well,” said Albus, “Aberforth will be coming back from Hogwarts tomorrow. Until then, we’ll have to cope without him. Not that it’s all that hard.” The last part was spoken deliberately low, so that only Gellert might hear him.

“Can you make me a hot cocoa, please Albus?” Ariana jumped up and down at the sheer brilliance of the idea.

“I suppose it won’t hurt.” Albus squeezed Gellert’s shoulder, running his hand down the length of his arm, letting it linger on Gellert’s own hand. He left for the kitchen, waving his wand this way and that; although he was hardly graceless in his wand movements, it had to be noted that Albus always became so much more haphazard in Gellert’s presence; Gellert had seen the difference himself: if he thought himself alone, Albus was as gentle and seamless as a Patronus could be; put Gellert in the same room as him, however, and he was far likelier to trip over his own feet, or to set fire to a glass of water.

Once she had downed her hot cocoa, it didn’t take Ariana long to fall into a deep sleep. Albus crept downstairs to make himself and Gellert some hot cocoa too, and was hardly surprised to find Ariana snoring slightly in her favourite armchair. A fire crackled across the room, which neither he nor Gellert had lit. He hastily made the drinks, then, grasping the mugs in one hand, his wand in the other, he levitated Ariana up to her bedroom. After tucking her in, he renewed the charms around her (so that he might be alerted if she had a problem in the night), set a dull, warm ball of light in the far corner of the room (because it wouldn’t do to have Ariana wake up in complete darkness), and, finally, closed the door as he left.  
Finally, Albus dragged himself up to his own bedroom. He tiptoed through the door, locked it, set down the drinks, placed his wand back behind his ear, and grinned at Gellert, who was sitting on the bed expectantly.

“Are you going to bring me my cocoa, or shall I have to walk across the room to reach it myself?” he teased, smiling.

“Get it yourself, lazy,” said Albus, flumping onto the bed next to him. “Maybe get into your nightclothes first.”

“Oh, right,” said Gellert. “I sort of forgot about that. You know I-”

“Come on,” Albus interrupted. “You’ll get an awful chill laying around in those clothes.”

“You just want me to take my clothes off.”

“Maybe so.”

Without much more talk, they changed into their nightshirts. Gellert’s was relatively standard: it was white, and it fell down to his knees, hemmed at the bottom, and soft as a puffskein. Albus’ nightshirt would have looked near identical, had it not been the victim of an angry Aberforth’s severing charm the week before he had gone back to Hogwarts. Because of this, it reached only halfway down Albus’ thighs- it could have been easily fixed, of course, but Albus had the sneaking suspicion that Gellert preferred it at this length on him.

Gellert flicked his hand towards the fireplace. Both he and Albus were, as they so often reminded people, incredibly talented at magic, so it surprised neither of them when a sudden flame began to play on the logs. He then plumped the bed’s many pillows, set them into a nest-like look, and nestle into the bed; he shifted up to the right side, pulled the covers back on the left, and moved the pillows slightly more.

Albus beamed at Gellert, eyes twinkling. He slipped into the bed and cuddled up next to his sweetheart; Gellert summoned the mugs to them, hot cocoa now only warm, yet perfect for drinking.

“How is it you took so long shopping today? I hardly saw you,” said Albus, contentedly moving his foot up and down Gellert’s leg.

“I put a lot of thought into my Christmas gifts,” Gellert said simply.

“If they’re as good as the gifts you bought for my birthday,” Albus said, “I’d be inclined to believe you.”

“Let’s hope they live up to your expectations then, Ally.”

“Don’t call me that,” Albus whined.

“Why ever not? I’ll stop if you like.”

“No! I mean-” Albus huffed. “I do like it. A lot. It’s just I don’t want you to get too used to it. If you called me that in front of Aberforth I’d never hear the end of it.”

“Maybe you’ll finally have an excuse to kill him,” joked Gellert.

Albus tittered.

The boys lay there in bed, a comfortable silence falling over them. They sipped their hot cocoas slowly, enjoying the moment. Gellert moved his fingers through Albus’ hair, pulling it out of the bun. He carefully moved the wand out from behind Albus’ ear, sending it to rest on the bedside table, next to his own wand. He played with Albus’ hair for a while, keeping it up as he levitated his mug to the desk across the room. Albus soon finished his drink too, his mug following Gellert’s.

Steadily, Gellert let his hand creep down from Albus’ head. It came to rest around his waist; his other hand fell to Albus’ freckled cheek, which was growing redder by the second.

Albus turned his face to Gellert’s, smiling to himself. He lifted his chin up and, as their lips met, they closed their eyes.

Albus brought his hand up to Gellert’s face, stroking his thumb back and forth; Gellert’s skin was coarse, a scar on his cheek from a duel at school, but no less beautiful for it; his breath was warm from the hot cocoa, his lips cracked from the cold; he smelt like Firewhisky (so he had probably been places besides shops that day) and his hand was tender on Albus’ cheek, his grip gentle on his waist.

Gently, he brought his leg across Albus’ body, not stopping the kiss. Albus parted his lips as their needs grew, slipping his arms around Gellert’s neck, drawing him closer as Albus lay under him.

As the night grew older, the boys grew faster. Clothes had been slipped off; Gellert had, at some point, placed a pillow against the headboard; muffling charms had been put around the bed, and sheets grew dirtier. Night passed to early morning and, when the boys finally fell into sleep, Godric’s Hollow fell into silence.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> so yeah i would die for ariana (both grande and dumbledore) also aberforth deserves love uwu enjoy sisters

Weak, pale light crept through a crack in the curtains; outside, snow still fell, heavier than before, hurriedly. The light slinked across the hard wood floor; it trickled across the deep blue, starry rug, drizzled through the twinkling constellations; with ease, it mizzled up the side of the large bed, glissading across one rich, purple blanket, gliding over another, hand-knitted with wool in shades of onyx-black and crystalized-pineapple-yellow; it stole over the surface of the bed, sloping over to the far wall, where it hovered, unmoving, having no more distance to travel.

A single, black eye opened flutteringly. A mouth, chapped from cold and carelessness, parted its lips, exhaling. A cloud rose before the eye, warmth tickling the end of a nose. Last night’s fire had burned out.

Gellert lifted his cheek, up from between lightly freckled shoulders. He now opened his white eye too, blinking in the cool light; he regained his consciousness, the same way Albus once fell into a lake- slowly, then all at once. There, before him, lay the boy he knew so well: just visible through tangled auburn hair was a tattoo, behind Albus’ ear, of the Hallows (though, since the summer, Gellert had long left behind that dream; he saw a future through which no good would come- and which, he had asked himself, would he rather be? Infamous and failed? Or little-known, yet well-loved?); as Gellert lifted his head, sitting up, he managed to spot one of his favourite tattoos- the one Albus had at the very end of his lower back: it was in ancient runes, only one word- ‘Gellert.’

There were many more marks, inked carefully into Albus’ skin. Some moved- floated here and there; some shone- twinkled and glowed; others simply sat there. Gellert loved them all.

He must have stayed, staring at his sweetheart for a good five minutes. He could’ve done so for hours on end, unmovingly taking in how lucky he was.

“Gellert?” came a mumble from beneath a garden of auburn hair.

“Hey, schatzi.”

Albus pushed his hair out of his eyes, smiling sleepily. “What time is it?”

“Haven’t got a Scooby-Doo, honestly,” said Gellert, not really thinking.

“What the bloody hell is a Scooby-Doo?” frowned Albus.

“Wh- oh. Yeah. It’s a TV show- wait do you remember what a TV show is?”

“Yeah,” said Albus. “You told me last week.”

“Good,” Gellert grinned. “Scooby-Doo is a TV show that doesn’t exist yet. I think it’ll come out in the 1960s or something. I was using it in the context of-”

“-of rhyming slang for ‘clue’?”

“Exactly.”

“So, you had another vision?” asked Albus through a yawn.

“Yes. I’ll tell you all about it at breakfast. I imagine Ariana will be interested too.”

“Oh, fuck!” said Albus, sitting up with such force that Gellert nearly fell off the bed. “We should check on her.”

“Let’s go then, Ally-Al,” said Gellert, before a cushion went flying at his face.

And so, a good two hours later (after much whining from Ariana, who didn’t want to get out of bed, and insistent cuddling from Gellert, who was overtaking Albus in ‘most clingy and needy wizard of the century’) the trio found themselves sat around the breakfast table. Gellert had cooked some bunte frühstückseier- or rather ‘colourful breakfast eggs.’ This wasn’t a special thing for him to do: he was always the one to cook meals. Ariana could bake well, but you couldn’t have red velvet cake for every meal; Aberforth was good at pub food, but, again, you could only have that every once in a while; as for Albus- well, the less said about his cooking skills the better- at least Ariana enjoyed burnt toast.

“- which is why it’s called ‘Rick-Rolling’,” finished Gellert as he put a whole egg into his mouth.

“Because the song is by Rick Astley?” said Ariana, grinning.

Gellert nodded.

“Can you play it for us? On the piano?” she asked.

Gellert swallowed. “Of course. I’ll just wait until Albus has done the dishes-”

Albus grumbled, as though he didn’t do the dishes every day.

“-and then we’ll sit around the piano and I’ll play and sing.”

“Can you play Thank U, Next again, Gellert?” said Ariana, eyes wide.

“You only like that one because the singer will be called Ariana too,” said Albus, balancing a plate on his head, holding the others in his hands.

“And what about it?” said Ariana.

“I take full responsibility for everything that come out of her mouth, Albus,” Gellert said solemnly.

“You’d better,” said Albus with a glare, but his eyes twinkled and Gellert knew he wasn’t mad.

Once Albus had done the dishes and they had all washed themselves, they sat around the piano, Gellert banging the keys, yet somehow still seeming elegant, Albus and Ariana singing to their hearts’ content.

“ONE LAST TIME!” yelled Ariana, the notes too high for her.

“I NEED TO BE THE ONE-” Albus was slightly more suited to the octave, but was by no means good.

“WHO TAKES YOU HOME!” the three finished together, Ariana giggling.

Gellert finally stood up from the piano. “That’s just how I remember the song. It’s not completely accurate, but-”

“You’re really good,” Albus assured him.

“So are you,” Gellert winked. Albus’ cheeks went crimson through his smile, and Ariana had never looked more confused.  
They were saved from any questions from a thundering banging at the door, followed by a string of yelled curses (not the magic kind, of course.)

“-freezing my FUCKING balls off out here, Albus! I know you’re in there, I can hear you caterwauling like a dying zouwu. Get your blonde bitch to open the door if you’re so- oh. Hey Ariana.”

She had made her way to the door, smiling serenely at the words which she wasn’t allowed to say being shouted so blatantly in her presence. Before her stood a boy of around sixteen years. His wavy, auburn hair was only just visible in wisps beneath his hat, and what could be seen of it was crystalized in ice. The end of his long, straight nose was red with cold. If anybody had tried to look angrier, they would have failed miserably.

“Hi Aberforth!” said Ariana brightly, hugging her favourite brother tight. Inside, Aberforth heard two voices muttering.

Aberforth let Ariana lead him inside, grimacing when he was taken into the same room as Gellert and Albus; he didn’t know who they thought they were fooling. Even a blind man could see how in love they were. Everyday he saw them (which recently, thank Merlin, hadn’t been much) they couldn’t quite take their eyes off each other; Albus might simply tell a pathetic joke that everyone had heard before, but, nevertheless, Gellert’s eyes would light up and he would howl in genuine joy; likewise, if Gellert did something as mundane as compliment Albus’ shirt, Albus would break into a Cheshire cat-like grin and hug him. It was, in Aberforth’s opinion, disgusting. Not because they were both men- that didn’t bother him. Nor was it jealousy that made him want to rip his own chest open every time he saw the pair (although Aberforth was slightly green-eyed at their happiness). No: what really revolted him was the fact the fact that Albus was his brother. He had known it would happen one day- most people fell in love, after all. He just didn’t like it.

Aberforth, contrary to popular belief (a belief primarily spread by Albus himself), was not stupid; he knew what came with a relationship; he knew there were hugs; he knew there were dates; he knew that, every so often, Albus would excuse himself to “check on the goats in the barn” and then “as an afterthought” he would take Gellert with him because “those goats really are a handful, Ab.” Aberforth had more than one braincell. He knew Albus didn’t give a shit about the goats, and the goats themselves barely needed one person to look after them. He knew they only snuck a way to steal a few kisses- or more, given they were often gone for a good hour or so.

The thought of his own brother doing such things- with such an irritating man at that- was what really made Aberforth want to yank his own fingernails out.

Nevertheless, he had made the conscious decision to spend Christmas with these lovebirds. Mostly because of Ariana, of course, but that wasn’t to say he hated Albus. Only that it wouldn’t be disastrous if they couldn’t see each other for Christmas.

“Hello, ginger,” said Gellert without looking up. Albus moved away from him, as though the couple weren’t blatantly obvious.

“Your dear Albus is ginger as well, nutcase,” said Aberforth. “How come there’s no decorations up? Christmas is just around corner.”

“Ariana wanted to wait until you were back,” Albus said, suppressing a smile.

Aberforth’s heart warmed at this. “Thank you, Ari.”

Ariana hugged him once more. “Can we start decorating now?”

Albus grinned. “Of course. Just don’t let Ab take charge, yeah? He’s awful at this, you remember last year when he had to use a severing charm to cut himself out of the tinsel.”

Ariana giggled as they all stood up and got to work.

It took them only a few hours to decorate the entire house, barn included. When Albus and Gellert went out back decorate it, Aberforth huffed, mumbling something about how it was his goats who lived there and therefore he should get to do it. Alas for him, he had to stay with Ariana.

The boys went into the barn, adornments in hand, the snow outside having already settled on top of their heads, that which was on the ground going all the way up to Albus’ knees (slightly lower on Gellert’s leg, him being a head taller).

“Bit chilly isn’t it?” Albus shivered. He hadn’t worn anything extra to come out here- he hardly thought things through with Gellert, and it was blissful.

Gellert took his coat off, holding it out. “Here,” he said, voice loving and hushed. Albus broke into a smile, putting it on.  
“Thanks, Gellert.” He stood on the tips of his toes, tilting his head upward as Gellert leaned down. They held the kiss only for a few seconds, but they didn’t have to continue it any longer to feel as warm as they did now.

Gellert laced the fingers of his right hand with Albus’ left, simply staring at him, wondering what he did to deserve such a brilliant man. (Though, of course, Gellert knew full well he hardly had a basic moral compass before they had met, and that he had done nothing to be rewarded for.)

Once the four had finished with the decorations, they sat in perfect silence by the crackling fireplace.

“Hey.” Ariana was the first to break the quiet. “Tomorrow’s Christmas Eve.”

Gellert snaked his arm around Albus’ shoulders, smiling. “Are you looking forward to it, Ari?”

“Oh yes!” she said. Nobody could quite tell why, but Ariana always enjoyed Gellert’s company- not that Gellert was complaining. The girl was very sweet, and surprisingly fun to talk to.

“I guess we’ll have to hope you see some future Christmas songs tonight, Gellert,” said Albus, leaning in to him. “You can teach them to us tomorrow, if Aberforth cooperates.”

“Ab’s asleep,” said Ariana, pointing to him. He was curled up in the big chair, blankets and all; his cheeks were flushed in the warmth of the firelight a look of content playing on his face.

Albus smiled to himself. “Well,” he whispered. “You two can stay down here for a while. Just be quiet, yeah?” He stood up and crept across the room, drawing his wand. “Ab’s had a long day. I’ll get him to bed, then it won’t be long for your bedtime Ariana, got it?”

“Okay,” she said, somewhat reluctantly.

Albus flicked his wand and, carefully, he floated Aberforth gently out of his chair, through the door and, finally, up to bed, tucking him in and brushing his hair aside.

“Night, Aberforth.”


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sorry it's been so long! i have consistency issues. that's also why this is shorter than the others. it's not as long but?? hopefully it's to the same standard. enjoy lovelies.

Of course, everybody has their own ideas of a perfect romance. Some may prefer such grandiose gestures such as flowers on every date, or perhaps diamonds and pearls to show appreciation; others might enjoy handmade gifts- an ebony heart, love in every carving mark; some like secret outings beneath the moonlight, stolen kisses in the shadows; maybe they would prefer rolling around in a meadow, lovers pinned to the floor, flower-crowns tangled in hair, giggles filling the air.

These were the thoughts which danced through Albus’ head that sweet Christmas Eve night- rather, they were memories: in the short five months which he had known Gellert they had done more than he could have wished for. Gellert was the reason he wore diamond in the inner shell of his ear- that was from July; the tattoo of a flower chain around his left wrist was drawn on by Gellert, a reminder of an impulsive August evening- it was by no means drawn well, but it meant something dear; the golden locket he wore beneath his shirt carried a photograph of Gellert- one which grinned gleefully, then stuck out his tongue, his arm cut off at the edge (the rest of the picture, Albus blushing and laughing, rested above Gellert’s chest, completely matched)- this gift was from September; from October, a clock stood on a shelf in Albus’ room, handmade by Gellert with Runes etched into the side (what the carvings said made Albus’ heart flutter); November brought a gift of a luscious notebook, leather-bound with intricate designs, one Albus had wanted for months- and what would come for December, Gellert had promised would be better than any other gift one could imagine.

As the two strolled along in the pretty snow, this was what Albus thought of.

“It’s a shame we’re in public,” said Gellert as they passed St Jerome’s Church. “Kissing you here would be perfect”

The choir in the church sang a carol indistinguishable from any other. They moved towards the cemetery, drawing towards the kissing gate. Here, Albus pulled Gellert to a stop. He drew his glove off, putting it in his pocket, pushing a stray hair behind Gellert’s ear, stroking his cheek gone pink in the chill. Their breath mingled in the air between them.

The church clock struck midnight.

They locked eyes, Albus leaning in.

“You’re my greater good.”

Albus felt as though his entire body was glowing. Gellert reached down, took him by the thighs, and placed him on the wood of the gate. Albus locked his legs around Gellert, drawing him in, neither stopping for breath for what could have been a second or a year.

The choir left the church, ambling and chattering. None paid the boys any heed.

An owl cooed in a far-off tree.

The boys drew apart. Smiling.

“And you’re mine, Al.”

“Merry Christmas, Gellert.”

“Merry Christmas.”


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> merry christmas, y'all

Lights glistered, winked in the empty front room, reflecting against the various baubles. Bunting on the mantlepiece stood still above the dead fireplace, tinsel draped over the bookshelves. Parcels lay beneath the tree, covered in brown paper and old editions of the Daily Prophet, topped off with ribbons of many colours. If the ribbon were dark purple, it was a present for Albus, as this was his favourite colour; black meant it was for Gellert- this was the colour of most of his possessions, excluding a few reds here and there; Aberforth had pink (though he insisted it was salmon) and yellow was for Ariana; alongside were four presents with green ribbons for Bathilda, whom Albus and Gellert had invited for the day.

A floorboard creaked beneath a bare foot. A stray strand of lace brushed an ankle, feet creeping down the cold stairs. Toes touched the carpet and made their way into the front room.

Ariana grinned at the pile of presents, clapping her hands in joy. She looked to the mantel clock- seven minutes past seven. Thinking this must be a reasonable time for waking, she took a deep breath before hollering:

“Aberforth! Come look! Presents! For us!”

There came no reply- no surprise, Ariana thought, as Aberforth was far from a morning person. She sighed.  
“Albus! Come down here!”

Nothing. Albus usually woke up early, but the silence didn’t surprise Ariana: since she could remember, Albus had always stayed in bed on Christmas day for as long as possible, purely so the rest would have to wait for him to come down to open their presents. It annoyed her but, she supposed, that was sort of the point.

“Gellert!” she tried. “Gellert, come down and see the presents!”

Nobody said anything. Ariana huffed and turned back to the stairs. If nobody were awake, why bother waiting in the cold? She might’ve lit the fire- she’d done so before- but if it went wrong then the presents may be ruined. So, disappointed, she began to climb back up to bed.

“Hey.”

Ariana’s head swished upwards in panic, only to see a familiar grin behind unkempt blonde curls.

“Gellert!” she squealed before smacking a hand over her mouth. “Oops. Gotta be quiet.”

“Indeed,” Gellert smirked. “Do you want to show me the presents? I know I’m not as good as Aberforth, but-”

“You’re just as good!” Ariana grabbed his wrist and dragged him down the stairs, somehow ending up floating mid-air by the end of it all.

She giggled as Gellert pulled her gently down back to the floor.

“Oopsy.”

“You’re very excited, aren’t you?”

“I love Christmas!”

“So do I.”

“Do you have Christmas in Germany?”

Gellert grinned. “Of course. The Queen’s husband-”

“He’s dead.”

“I know,” said Gellert. “But when he was alive, he made it popular to have trees in your house for Christmas. That came from Germany.”

“Really?”

“Yes- he and the Queen also started putting presents under the tree.”

“Weren’t they cousins?”

“Well-” Gellert tried to supress a laugh. “Yes. But they gave us Christmas trees!”

They carried on like this for a good two and a half hours, simply chatting and making jokes. It was delightful (although Gellert felt a pang whenever he was reminded of his own family Christmases), and they did nothing much else, even when Aberforth came down after an hour to join in. He felt himself warming up to Gellert which rather ruined the holiday spirit, in his opinion. It was only at around nine forty-seven that Gellert stood up and went to the door.

“Present time, don’t you think?” he said with a glint in his eye.

“If you can get dear Sleeping Beauty out of bed,” Aberforth scoffed. “He normally does this ‘til around eleven.”

“Don’t worry, I’ve got it.”

Gellert inhaled dramatically, holding it for effect. He threw his hair out of his face and screeched:

“Albus! Aberforth set the bookshelves on fire!”

 

Aberforth made an indignant noise, glaring.

There was a scrabbling upstairs, a bang, a crack as Albus appeared in front of them, tangled hair and all.

“What the fuck, Aberfor- hey.”

He looked around at the untouched shelves.

“Liar,” he mumbled, half-heartedly pushing Gellert’s shoulder.

Gellert, Aberforth, and Ariana tittered. Albus was about to using a silencing charm on them, when a knock came from the door.

“That’ll be Bathilda,” said Gellert. “Aberforth, you’re dressed properly. You go and let her in whilst the rest of us get into our day clothes.”

Once upstairs, it took them only a minute to be dressed. A brief pillow fight, a debate about whether or not Jesus was a wizard, and a few stolen kisses later, Gellert and Albus came back into the front room, Ariana already sitting there in a red dress with white trimming. 

Bathilda, Gellert’s great-aunt, was perched on one of the sofas, a pile of neatly-wrapped parcels sitting on her lap.

“Hello, Auntie!” said Gellert, kissing each cheek before being pulled into a tight hug.

“It’s wonderful to see you dear. You know, your mother had the nerve to ask me to go to her Christmas gathering- and leave you here! Honestly, that woman doesn’t deserve you.”

Gellert smiled into her shoulder. “Thank you for staying here, Auntie.”

“I’d not miss you for anything, lovely.” She let go of Gellert, turning to Albus. She stood up and shrieked-

“My, my, you’ve grown! It’s barely been two weeks since I’ve properly seen you, and yet you’re getting lankier every day, Albus.”

“It’s Gellert, really, he feeds me and talks to me- treats me as a gentleman should. That sort of treatment always makes plants grow- perhaps I was a daffodil in a past life.”

Bathilda chuckled. “Perhaps you were. Alright, that’s everyone then. We’d better get on with our presents, lovelies, Aberforth’s got to cook dinner soon.”

So they made themselves comfortable and got to work on the presents- and what remarkable presents they were! Aberforth finished opening his first: a box of home-made mince pies and a new book from Bathilda- the book was one he had wanted for a while, yet had never got around to buying; there was a new chess set and a hand-knitted scarf (deep blue, with dots of yellow which glowed in darkness) from Albus; from Gellert, he received a hairbrush (as a joke, but he needed one anyway) and a grass-scented candle; Ariana gave him an incredibly detailed (and well-drawn) portrait of a goat she had made herself.

Bathilda had opened her presents too: a phoenix-feather quill from Albus (how he had managed to get his hands on one was beyond her), a pot of glowing ink from Gellert; Aberforth had bought her a new shawl (fern green) and Ariana had got her a pair of earrings, black and shiny.

Gellert enveloped Albus in a long hug when he opened a box with a black cloak inside it, one which would change its temperature to fit the wearer’s needs; he rolled his eyes (in good humour) at the ornate silver mirror which Aberforth gave him and grinned when he opened Ariana’s gift- an Alice-band for his hair (which he never would have worn, but now he thought about it, he could pull off anything if he so wished); Bathilda gifted a tin of Lebkuchen biscuits and a pair of novelty gloves.

Albus was pleased with his gifts as well: a pointed hat, purple with swirling stars across it and a pair of striped socks from Gellert- the socks were weirdly heavy, but perhaps they were just made like that; from Bathilda, a tin of freshly-baked pumpkin pasties, a beautiful brown notebook, with intricate, engraved, golden designs across the covering; Aberforth had given him some new potions equipment (the rest had been blown up in an elaborate experiment he Gellert had thought would be a good idea) and he’d received a thick, wool jumper from Ariana.

Ariana herself was delighted when she opened her presents: Bathilda had bought her a new set of robes- grey and lilac, as well as a box of Bertie Bott’s Every Flavour Beans (which were her favourite); Albus had gifted a bonnet she had asked for, and Gellert a locket with a bird charm next to it on the chain; Aberforth had got her the (in her eyes) most amazing sketchbook with special pencils (the tips of which would never wear down). She was ready to move on, when Albus held up his finger.

“Actually, Ariana,” he said. “You’ve got one more present- from all of us.”

She squealed with joy. “Oh, what is it?”

Albus looked at Gellert; Gellert looked at Aberforth, who sneered at him and looked at Bathilda; Bathilda smiled warmly at Ariana.  
“Ariana,” she said. “Since Albus and Gellert started tutoring you, you’ve gotten quite adept at magic- not just controlling it, but performing it too.”

“Thank you.”

“So,” Albus continued. “We’ve come to a decision. I, as head of the family, have been making deals and organising something for you.” 

Ariana nodded her head in anticipation as Albus carried on. “You know, of course, that Aberforth leaves to go to Hogwarts every so often- just as I did before.”

“Yes?”

“Well, unfortunately, we couldn’t find a space for you there.”

“Oh. It doesn’t matter. Can I have my present?”

“Yes. Whilst we couldn’t get you into Hogwarts, we do think it’s time for you to get a proper education.” Albus paused for effect. “When September comes next year…”

“Yes?”

“You’ll start attending Durmstrang, just like Gellert did!”

Ariana said nothing for a moment, blinking slowly.

“I get to go to school?”

“Yeah! It’ll be so fun. Durmstrang’s amazing really, it gets a bad rep, but look at me!” said Gellert. “I could’ve turned out worse, couldn’t I?”

“I get to be like you!”

“You’ll be like all of us.”

“I’ll be normal.”

Ariana asked Gellert questions about the school for hours: he didn’t know quite where it was, but she needn’t worry about not speaking the language as most of the students spoke English (to this, Ariana assured him that she would get along fine as, in all the spare time she’d had not attending school, she had mastered an impressive array of languages, including bowtruckle). She delighted in the thought of the uniforms (“red cloaks sound so wonderful- and warm!”) and simply the prospect of going was enough to keep her chattering for hours.

It was only after Ariana worked herself into a such a state that she had to nap, that Gellert went to find Albus (who was knitting with Bathilda in the front room). Smells of gravy and roasting potatoes filled the air- Aberforth was working relentlessly in the kitchen. Gellert tapped Albus on the shoulder.

“Come with me,” he smiled. “Bring your socks, too.”

“…Okay?”

Gellert led him through the kitchen, choosing not to heed Aberforth’s angry grumbling at being “disturbed.” They left to the back garden and, finally, into the barn. Gellert, wearing his new cloak, closed the door behind them.

“Why are we here, exactly?” Albus asked, conjuring a glowing orb in his hand and leaving it to hover above them.

“Take the socks out,” Gellert grinned. Albus did, staring confusedly up at him.

“Now what?”

“Take your wand. Undo the transfiguration.”

Albus brought his wand out and tapped the socks before swishing. He made a sound of awe as, where the socks had been previously, lay a small, ebony box. Gellert reached out, brushing his hand against Albus’; he took the box and crouched, placing one knee onto the filthy floor.

The box opened slowly, Gellert guiding it with his fingers, beckoning the lid upwards; something glistered dimly in the light of the orb; the jewel was somehow a hundred colours at once, and Albus’ heart pumped a hundred feelings a second.

“Opal.” He said when he managed to find his voice. “It’s…wow.”

Gellert smiled hopefully. “I know it’s only been a few months, but…well, it feels like I’ve known you for a thousand lives. And I think if I don’t hold onto what we have-”

“Yes.”

“Yes you’ll-?”

“If you want me to.”

“I do,” Gellert said.

“Then yes.” Albus took a deep breath, said nothing, and squealed at such a volume he could’ve competed with Ariana.

“I know it’ll be illegal for a good few years.”

“I know. Perhaps we can do something to change that. Perhaps we’ll just have to wait. But it’ll be worth it. Won’t it?”  
“It will.”

They paused, each taking the other in, cherishing every second.

“Do you want to wear the ring, or…?”

“What?” Albus had hardly heard for all he was staring. “Oh. The ring. Yes.”

Gellert stood up as he slipped it onto Albus’ finger. He tucked a hair behind his sweetheart’s ear, cupping his cheek. Albus swore he heard all the colours in the world as their lips met again. They twined their hands together, swearing to never leave.

Sometime, in a few seconds or a few minutes, or even a few hours (for Albus and Gellert would not be able to tell), Aberforth would come calling for Christmas dinner. He’d open the door of the barn and find them there, but he’d not wait for an explanation. He’d say that they could talk about it later, and that the turkey would go cold if they waited.

But for now, it was just the two of them in a million perfect moments. And that was how Albus wished to stay forever.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hope you enjoyed this! i had a lot of fun writing it. if literally anyone wants it, i could write about ariana going to Durmstrang (it's my favourite wizarding school, okayyyyy that's why she's going) but yeah. thanks for reading! merry christmas!


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